


Tongue Tied

by GallicGalaxy



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Almost sexual content, But not quite, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Juzo Sakakura, what are tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:05:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallicGalaxy/pseuds/GallicGalaxy
Summary: Just when it seems like everything's falling into place, Juzo has another confession to make.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't uploaded anything in *checks* like 5 months haha  
> I actually started this like forever ago, forgot about it, and then very recently remembered and decided to finish it. So if it seems weird between the beginning and the end that's why.  
> I...don't know what this is
> 
> There's no actual sex in this fic so don't worry about the beginning there ~~(I did at one point start working on an explicit munakata x trans!sakakura fic tho whoops)~~

Here he was, right at the threshold of what he wanted.

And yet here he was, thinking about how to get out of it as efficiently as possible.

Because he liked Munakata – he would've even said that he loved him, even though Munakata liked to pretend that he didn't care about anything, and tore his heart out with the way he ignored Sakakura, the way he turned away from him.

But right now, he wasn't turning away. He was pushing his tongue into Sakakura's mouth, trying to cover the larger man with his body, trying to overpower him. Inhaling his heady, musky smell. Absorbing his desire, feeding off of it, and responding in turn. Sakakura wanted him, more in that moment than he felt like he ever had before.

He felt Munakata's hand start to roll up the edge of his shirt. It was just making him want Munakata even more, the sensation of his fingers making their way up Sakakura's bare stomach. He tried to wrap his legs around Munakata, bring him closer, but at that moment Munakata pulled away, leaving Sakakura gasping at the sudden absence of Munakata's lips against his. Munakata sat back, panting deeply, and tossed his jacket off.

This was it. This was their moment. One of many things Sakakura had been striving for, longing for, for what felt like an immeasurably long time. Munakata was there, ready and wanting, about to take him in all the ways he'd dreamed of.

No. No.

“Munakata, I...” Sakakura choked. How did he tell him? Would it matter? Of course it'd matter. He should've told Munakata earlier. Now he'd think Sakakura was just being dishonest.

“What is it?” Munakata's voice was still stiff and harsh, even now. Cutting into Sakakura like a steel blade.

Someone like Munakata wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand why Sakakura had never told him, or why Sakakura was so afraid to tell him even now.

It was something that, as far as he knew, virtually _nobody_ knew. Something he hadn't really confessed to anyone before, much less someone like Munakata. Someone who took the breath from his lungs, and who was, at the same time, nigh on unreadable. Even now, he had no idea how Munakata would react. Would he think differently of Sakakura? Think less of him, maybe?

He'd probably call all this off. And anything that could've potentially come with it.

“Sakakura, are you alright?” Munakata questioned. One of his hands was on Sakakura's stomach again, creeping lower, sinking down towards his pants. It shot a burst of cold fear up Sakakura's spine.

“I...” He managed to squeak, but then his mouth felt dry and his tongue felt numb and he was struggling, floundering, trying to find any configuration of words that would express the idea he wanted to communicate. But his tongue had betrayed him, and he was not speaking. Not just his tongue, but his lips, his throat, his brain, everything between his mind and his voice.

The only thing Sakakura managed to say was _“I can't do this.”_ , though whether it was a declaration to Munakata or himself was uncertain, as was whether what he couldn't do was have sex with Munakata or tell Munakata what he wanted to tell him.

As he hastily mumbled _“I can't do this.”_ , he was already rushing away from Munakata, up and out the door, wanting to run but settling for a speedwalk of shame. If Munakata said anything after that, Sakakura didn't hear him. He was already out the door, moving as fast as he dared. Leaving Munakata's bedroom behind him, chased by shame all the way home.

He was panting by the time he got back. He'd sprinted most of the way home, as though he was worried that Munakata was going to chase him down or something.

Sakakura tossed his coat onto the couch with an unnecessarily aggressive flair, and then walked straight into the bathroom. He washed his face, partially to clear off the sweat clinging to his forehead, and partially to bring himself back to reality. He was already regretting the way he'd stormed out, so suddenly and so staunchly. He could feel it in his chest.

He wished he'd said something, anything that made sense to Munakata. The only reason he could think of for not doing so was because he just couldn't. He'd frozen, like a deer in the headlights. Out of all the things he could've said, he'd chosen _“I can't do this.”_ , which told Munakata nothing. He didn't even want to know what Munakata thought of him now.

He spent the rest of the night marinating in self-loathing. No matter what he did, he couldn't keep those fatal moments from replaying themselves over and over in his head. They stuttered around all kinds of what-ifs: images of better results, better actions, things Sakakura could've done and should've done but hadn't done.

He'd had a chance. He'd had a moment where he was already perfectly situated to say what needed to be said, and he hadn't.

There wasn't much point to sitting there and imagining a better version of the past he couldn't change. But he did so nonetheless.

He thought about calling Munakata for about half the night. He almost did at least three times, but always realized that he had no plan or point for said phone call and stopped himself. Munakata didn't call. It might've been because he thought it wasn't a big deal, or because he wanted to give Sakakura some space. Or, perhaps, because he was feeling the same way Sakakura was at the time: uncertain, insecure, and worried. Or just because he didn't care.

Sakakura could barely sleep. He and Munakata met in the morning most days, and he knew Munakata would be there. He'd ask. He'd be looking for an explanation, and Sakakura had to give him one. He had to say _something_.

He spent the hours of the morning he should've been asleep turning over words until they meant nothing, thinking about how to think.

 


	2. Chapter 2

There was a very particular spot where Sakakura and Munakata met in the morning.

On that morning in particular, the sky had been covered in its entirety by a filmy blanket of pale clouds. Sakakura could feel his heart turning over in his throat from the very moment his eyes opened. He was still thinking about what to say, what he'd do if something went wrong and his tongue betrayed him once more.

Another tongue-tied confession that should've been confessed a long time ago. Munakata had a way of making already difficult explanations even harder than they needed to be.

Why couldn't he have said it all at once?

Too many reasons to count. Because he'd been nervous enough the first time, because he'd been trying to take it one step at a time, because he probably hadn't even been thinking about it.

There was no real reason why Munakata would be alright with one of these confessions and not the other, right? Hopefully not. He'd accepted it when Sakakura told him that he felt for him, even though he didn't want to use the word ' _love_ ' because it was too frightening. Sometimes it scared other people off, and the last thing Sakakura wanted was to lose what he had between him and Munakata.

What if Munakata asked why he hadn't been told about this... _other thing_ already?

_Goddammit_. Sakakura swore internally. He couldn't even say it to himself.

Trans. Transgender. He'd been designated female when he was born and now identified as male. And where it mattered to nobody but a few people – only those who were in a position like Munakata had been – he still had the same sex organs, the same genitalia he'd been born with.

Use of the phrase 'sex organs' made the whole thing sound a little too...clinical. He couldn't say anything like that to Munakata.

His time was running out. He was already on his way to the spot where they'd arranged to meet since they'd become...so involved. There was little risk of them being seen out here, as ill-frequented as it was, but they did their best to avoid any particularly incriminating actions regardless. They just liked to see each other before a long day. Not that they never had any other chances to be together over the course of a day, but there was something very intimate about those morning conversations, speaking in low voices with nobody else present but the two of them.

This one, however, was going to be a different kind of conversation.

Munakata was already there when Sakakura arrived. Not entirely unusual.

The heartbeat pressed beneath Sakakura's tongue raced to twice the speed it had been at before. This was it. Another confession. He'd made a harder one before.

When he approached Munakata, the white-haired prince bore the same neutral expression of discontent he did almost every time Sakakura came upon him. Sakakura could tell himself all he wanted that Munakata didn't mean to look so irritated all the time, but that didn't change the way it made him feel.

“Good morning, Sakakura.”

Munakata's voice was like a steel blade. Sharp, sleek, dangerous, and yet still elegant in the way it was used. Everything he said sounded so exceptionally precise and calculated, even when he was speaking casually.

“Good morning.” Sakakura repeated, with a polite nod of his head. He didn't dare look Munakata in the face, not right now. It was a miracle to him that he'd even managed to form two complete words.

Munakata turned his head towards Sakakura, giving him a look that expressed no visible emotion, outside of a possible willingness to be patient.

“Listen, about last night...” Sakakura sighed. He was sickeningly, paralyzingly nervous. “I know I was being...” He rubbed his neck and sighed again, scrambling for the right words like a cat would scramble for a hold on a riverbank. Every fraction of a second that the silence grew longer, his hope of recovering the conversation plummeted further and further into nothingness.

“It's alright.” Munakata murmured, as reassuringly as he could. “I know that it's...a big deal.”

“Well, it's...” Sakakura struggled. “A bit more complicated than I'd let you know before.”

“How so?” Munakata asked fluidly. Sakakura often wished he could at least act as confident as Munakata at times like this. He took a deep breath, staring idly at the stone walkway, and then tried to answer once more.

“I probably should've told you this already.” He mumbled. His mouth felt dryer than it ever had, save for one occasion he could recall. “But I'm not a...no, I am, it's just...” Sakakura growled a little at himself and rubbed his forehead. “Let me start over.”

Munakata was quiet, head tilted expectantly, waiting for Sakakura to recover. “Are you alright?” He questioned, looking faintly worried.

“Listen, the reason I left last night was because there's something I thought you should know, and I didn't know how you'd feel if you found out.” Sakakura declared, attempting to regain his composure.

“Something _else_?” Munakata chuckled. An actual joke – that seemed unusual for him.

Sakakura managed to smile slightly as he continued. “I haven't told anyone about this, either.” He admitted. “Nobody who didn't know already. But...I wasn't born male.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, running his fingers anxiously through his hair. He could feel himself trembling, quivering in fear of something that might not even happen. “Well...you know what I mean. But I haven't gone through a sex change, so I'm still...”

Sakakura rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I'm transgender. I'm still male, I'm still a man, but I'm...female in sex, if you...understand.” He stammered. He didn't even know if he was making sense anymore. He hung his head, one hand still over his face, overcome by a burning sensation of failure. He'd spent all of that morning and the previous night obsessing over what he was going to say, and now he'd still failed. He was still telling Munakata as little as _“I can't do this.”_ had meant.

He felt Munakata take his hand.

Quite a daring thing to do.

“Sakakura...” He murmured, tightening his grip on Sakakura's hand. “Did you think I would think any less of you?” He whispered affectionately.

Sakakura felt himself smile uncontrollably. His eyes started to cry without his consent, and he lifted Munakata's hand and kissed the back of it.

“Th-thank you...” Sakakura choked, keeping his lips pressed against Munakata's hand.

“I have to say, I wouldn't have guessed if you hadn't told me.” Munakata chuckled lightly. His laughter was so rare that the sound almost shocked Sakakura to hear. But it was beautiful nonetheless: a slow, elegant sort of sound, which charmed Sakakura's very soul.

“I shouldn't have to say it, but...” Sakakura began. “This is also a secret.”

“Of course.” Munakata replied with a minute nod. Sakakura let his hand go, suddenly worried someone would see them together from some unknown distance. Munakata held his hand for an extra moment, just to give him one last touch of warmth.

Sakakura noticed that Munakata was wearing a whisper of a smile, a very suggestive little lopsided smirk.

“So, do you want to try again tonight?” He offered, lowering his voice until it almost disappeared from existence. Sakakura felt warmth grow in his chest, and he gave a playful smile to match Munakata's.

“I'd love to.”

 


End file.
